


Red Water

by JaneyKatherineHummingbird



Series: Snippets of Sadness and Angst [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Grief, bones takes care of Jim the only way he can, post-mortem washing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 05:32:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6740479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneyKatherineHummingbird/pseuds/JaneyKatherineHummingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones takes care of Jim one last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Water

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow up to Dungeon.

The body was a mess: a battered, bloody mess. There was a lot of work to be done to get it ready for the funeral and Bones would not entrust the task to anyone else, even though he hadn't been able to perform the autopsy on his best friend. 

Jim's torture by those blasted creatures had left an indescribable amount of wounds. M'Benga had had a difficult time pinpointing what actually killed him, there was so much damage. The bleeding in the brain from the blows to the head had probably done the job, combined with the massive blood loss everywhere else. Bones had nearly thrown up when they'd returned with the dead captain and barely conscious first officer.   
Now he stood in silence over Jim's corpse, preparing to do one last service for his friend. 

He sighed heavily and began to wash Jim's face, talking to him as he worked. "I'm sick that we didn't get to you in time, Jim. One half hour too late. That blasted stronghold/dungeon thing was a nightmare to get into, Sulu said. You held out much longer than I would've with all those injuries." 

He stared bleakly at the permanently closed eyes and the stubborn jaw, before he went down the captain's neck and started on the shoulders, painstakingly wiping away every speck of dirt and blood. There were noticeable whip marks here. They'd soon be covered by the uniform, so they hadn't been too picky with the regenerators. 

The doctor's heart ached, imagining how much pain Jim must have been in. The grief threatened to swallow him up, but he gritted his teeth and continued down Jim's arms. "Even a cat runs out of lives eventually. Not even James T. Kirk could escape death in the long run. It's finally caught up with you, and I can't bring you back this time." He ended on almost a sob, picking up Jim's limp hand. The knuckles were scabbed and bloody from the fight he'd put up when he was captured. 

"Such a fighter, you were," he muttered, cleaning each finger carefully. "Always coming in with a broken jaw or hand cause you couldn't keep your trap shut or your hands to yourself. Jim Kirk against the world: that was your motto." 

He cleaned the other arm in silence, remembering the way Jim used to use his hands to express himself, gesticulating wildly to make a point. He'd often thrown them up in despair when Bones got into it with Spock. "I can't deal with you guys anymore!" He'd declared once in frustration. 

Leonard sighed as he peeled the plastic shroud back to work on the chest, which was lined with red-brown streaks and smears from the numerous wounds that been closed up earlier. Jim had kept up his strength training and it showed in the defined muscles. But who cared now? 

When Bones dipped the cloth in the water again, it had turned red. He worked patiently away until his sad job was finished. If a tear or two fell on to his deceased friend, well, no one would ever know. "Dammit, Jim!" He sniffled, setting down his bucket and cloth, staring at the remains of his captain, "Why couldn't I have been there sooner?" His anguished question went unanswered.


End file.
